


All Through the Night

by EllieL



Category: A Discovery of Witches (TV), All Souls Trilogy - Deborah Harkness
Genre: F/M, Missing Scene, Smut, The Book of Life - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-24 08:28:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16636436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieL/pseuds/EllieL
Summary: Christmas Eve at Les Revenants





	All Through the Night

**Author's Note:**

> Expanding something that was almost a skimmed over paragraph the first time I read the books. On re-read, it's a month post-partum and it seemed to be begging for a little more.

His cold hands set her skin ablaze as they swept along the edge of her bra and across her back under her sweater. Pulling her close, he kissed her once before spinning them across the great hall in a lazy dance. She let him lead, head resting against his heart.   
  


“Come to bed with me?” he whispered as they reached the base of the swirling spiral staircase leading up to their rooms. Fingers splayed over her hips, teasing the top of her thighs. 

  
Desire flooded her mind, but it was tempered with a little fear, and she knew he could smell that as surely as he could read it in her eyes as she looked up at him. “Matthew….”

  
Dropping a kiss on her forehead, he reassured her. “All I want is to spend Christmas Eve with my arms around my wife. I know it’s only been a month. We don’t have to do anything if you’re not ready.”

  
In response, she pinned him against the wall at the base of the stairs and kissed him until she was dizzy. “Promise me.”  
  


“I promise.” He hissed the crown of her head, cool fingers tangling through her hair. “If you permit nothing more than me warming my cold bones next to your fiery warmth that will be enough for me tonight.”   
  


When she looked up into his dark eyes, she knew that wasn’t quite the truth, but knew he wanted it to be. “I think I’d like a little more than that. I think you would too.”

  
His soft thick sweater tangled in her fingers as his hands slid up her sides, just grazing the sides of her breasts, eliciting a faint gasp from her. “Just tell me, Diana. Tell me what you want.”  
  


“You. Just you.” She wrapped her arms around him as if she couldn’t get close enough to him. Under her cheek, she felt a strong, solitary beat of his heart. 

  
They made their way slowly up the stairs, stopping occasionally to kiss, until they reached the firelight and warmth of their bedroom. The rugs were soft underfoot as she shed shoes as they made their way across to the bed. Moonlight reflected off the snowy landscape, making the sheets glow like a snowbank. She sunk back into the downy warmth as he made his way around the room, extinguishing candles and lights, and shedding a few layers of clothing as he went.

  
Returning to bed, he sat at the bottom of the bed and took her stocking foot in his hands. “May I?” He waited for her smile and nod of assent before running his thumb up the arch of her foot, eliciting a soft moan of delight from her. He smiled as he peeled off the wooly sock, then repeated the maneuver on the other foot. A slow tug pulled her leggings along her legs, almost tickling.

  
“Now,” he said as he stretched out beside her, “what about this?” One hand swept across the hem of her sweater, over an abdomen that was still much softer and rounder than it had once been.

  
She hesitated for only a second before answering him. “It’s awfully warm.” 

  
“Let me see how I can help with that.” He leaned down and pressed cool kisses into her warm flesh as he pushed the sweater up, up, seemingly heedless of her stretch marks and jiggly body. She took a deep breath and relaxed under his ministrations.

  
Until she had to sit up enough for him to pull the sweater over her head. Then she remembered the stained nursing bra she was wearing, and felt suddenly self-conscious. 

  
As she reached one arm up to cover herself, he gently caught her fingers and kissed her knuckles. She allowed him to guide her back down into the bed as he shed his own shirt and lay down next to her. One of his hands toyed with a lock of her hair, the other made leisurely time tracing over the new contours of her body. His touch was light, sending her nerve endings tingling. Until he trailed down her left arm and to the jagged scar at her elbow. 

  
“Does it bother you?”

  
He looked up at her sharply. “That you feed our daughter? Of course not. I just wish that it was not like this.” He leaned across her to kiss the silvery scar, and she swept her fingers through his hair. She felt the faint tremor that ran through his body as he bent over her.

  
“My blood doesn’t make you want--”   
  


His head turned sharply, eyes freezing the words before they left her lips. “You always make me  _ want _ . But my wants are not her needs, and I’ll not have you lose blood to both of us, and while nursing Philip too.”    
  


He slid his hand over the edge of her breast as he drew away, firmer than he’d touched her so far, and she shifted away just a fraction at the ache. Immediately, his hand with drew entirely. He lay back on the bed next to her, eyes closed.   
  


Drawing a slow breath, she turned on her side to face him, hand coming to rest firmly on the center of his chest. “Will you be all right with that? I saw how it affected you before, wanting me.” The scar over his heart, a reminder of their encounter with Juliette, was barely visible under her index finger. She traced it slowly, until his eyes opened and he brought one hand up to rest on top of hers.   
  


“It will be worse if I’m worried about your well-being. And I was serious, Diana, if we spend our evening just like this, I’ll still be the happiest man in France.”

  
She tilted her head up and brushed her lips against his, lightly, drinking in all the desire in his eyes. ”I know. But I want to try a little more than this,” she whispered.

  
Hands returned to their exploration of her body, now tracing the familiar scars on her back. A mark of resilience and possession, that only he would ever see. She shivered as he traced the sweep of the crescent moon across her lower back, pushing herself more closely against him.

  
He gave a low happy hum as her hand slid down from his chest, a low slow caress of his body, which just as firm and strong as she remembered. And he responded to her touch just as she remembered. It had been so long for both of them, between complications of her pregnancy and time apart, that it did not take long before she had him on edge.

  
She eased her touch just enough to hold him off, eliciting a little groan of frustration from him. That didn’t last long, though, before turning in to a muffled gasp as her lips made their way down his body and took him in her mouth. This much she could do for him, for them, tonight, when she was less certain of her own body’s reactions. These responses she knew, knew that little hitch in his throat as he started to lose the control he held so tightly.

  
She enjoyed feeling his careful control slip, loved watching him finally give in to his desire. Loved watching him respond to her touch. Her lips hovered just over the tip of him as one finger carefully traced his length.

  
“Diana...don’t...have to…”

  
“Shhh,” her response was a warm breath across him and she could feel a tremor run through him, feel him giving in to what his body wanted. “That’s why I want to.”

  
It did not take long for his breath to catch and his hips to buck up towards her, his whole body taut with his release. She’d barely let him glide from her lips when his arms went roughly around her and pulled her up to meet his fierce kiss, embrace pulling her tightly against him.

  
When he broke the kiss, he buried his face in her hair as she rested a cheek on his chest. For long moments, they rested that way, the only sound in the chateau the crackle of fire in the grate. 

  
“What would you like me to do for you?” His quiet words were muffled by the tangle of her hair. 

  
Before responding, she took a long, deep breath. “Tell me a story.”

  
“A story,  _ mon coeur _ ?” She couldn’t see his face, but heard the raised eyebrow in his query.

  
She hummed against him, let him feel it too. “Mmmhmm. A fantasy. Tell me what you’d like us to do when I’m ready.”

  
“Ah.” He kissed the crown of her head. “Just one?”

  
Turning her head up, she caught his Cheshire cat grin with a kiss. His hands trailed slowly down across her back.

  
“When we first came here, your face lit up with such delight at the library. You looked even more beautiful than usual. I imagine you there one snowy winter afternoon, while the children are napping. You’ve found an illuminated manuscript, with brilliant colors showing...something fascinating.” He laughed a little, and she did too, relaxing in to the sound of his voice and the sweep of his hands over her skin, the arc of her hip bone, the curve of her thigh.

  
“I come in to bring you a cup of tea--”

  
“Is this your fantasy or mine?”

  
“I don’t see any reason it can’t be both.” His fingers trailed over her thighs, brushing not quite between them, and she let out a little sigh as he continued. “You ask me to take a look at the manuscript, some bit of Occitan that needs translating. I lean over you to look at it and can only think of how well we fit together.” He lifted her leg and draped it over his, and her breath caught.

  
“You’ve got those soft fleecy leggings on that you like because they’re warm in this drafty house, and I like because they’re so easy to slide down your legs.” His thumb finally brushed across the bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs, sending a frisson through her whole body. She could practically hear him smiling.

  
He kept his touch just a little too slow, a little too light, to truly satisfy her, as he continued, sounding maddeningly composed. “You push the manuscript out of the way as I press you down onto the table. You’re so warm under me, so soft in that sweater of mine you think I haven’t noticed you’ve borrowed. One of my hands slips around your hips and between your legs.”

  
Nerves finally caught fire as his thumb found the pressure and rhythm she’d craved, sent her panting against his chest.

  
“You’re always so eager. In such a hurry. And you know I prefer to take my time.” His fingers slowed, and she whimpered faintly. “But I’ve wanted you in a library since I first saw you at the Bodleian. You in my library is irresistible.” 

  
His hand moved away just a fraction of an inch, and she shifted against him, trying to return his touch where she most wanted it. “No delay this time. One movement and I’m inside you.” His hand was back where she’d wanted it, one cool finger pressing in to her. It was not the easy, effortless motion they’d both expected, and she stilled against him. The hand that had been at the small of her back now cupped the back of her head. “ _ Mon coeur _ , look at me.”

  
The concern he’d pushed her too far was clear even without meeting his dark, assessing gaze. “It’s all right, Matthew.” She kissed up his neck and along his jaw, feeling her own body relaxing around him as she did. “My body isn’t back to normal yet. I just need a minute.”  
  


He nodded and kissed her tenderly, beginning to withdraw his finger from her. She caught his wrist before he removed it from between her legs. “That doesn’t mean I want to stop. Tell me more about wanting me in libraries,” she continued, kissing him again.   
  


“You drive me to distraction in them.” His thumb slowly resumed a steady rhythm against her. “The way your eyes light up and your whole body is focused, almost predatory.” The pressure increased, and she could feel tension beginning to coil in her, knew he felt the shift in her too. “You glow in a library. All that magic you tried to hide would glimmer out of you as you pondered over something. You look like a fine illumination yourself. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”   
  


All it took to send her tumbling over the edge was the quirk of his finger, hitting just the right spot inside her. That at least had not changed, his knowledge of where and when to touch her, how to send her trembling against him. Her breath caught and her fingers dug into the firm muscles of his arm.   
  


Gradually, her racing heart slowed and she was aware of something other than the stillness of his fingers against her now, as his lips traced her hairline, light as snowflakes. When he slowly started teasing his thumb across her again, it was too overwhelming on her sensitive flesh, and she shook her head ever so slightly against his chest. He froze for a split second, before she reassured him, “It’s just too much right now.”   
  


He shifted them both then, kissing her until it felt like all of her nerves might be overwhelmed, too, before tucking her close against him, arms surrounding her the way he said he wanted. The way she wanted, too, squeezing him just a bit closer to her as she snuggled her head into the crook of his neck. This Christmas, she had everything she never knew she wanted, and for one night, she let herself forget all the troubles as the distant churchbells started ringing to mark the arrival of Christmas.


End file.
